Centuries [Springtrap X Reader]

Ｃｈａｐｔｅｒ ３： Ｂｌａｃｋｍａｉｌｅｄ

 You nervously shuffled and buried your back against the leather chair. You didn't really admire the look Yariel was giving you. Let's just say that you never want to set foot in this place again, the mysteries can be solved without having to put yourself in a chair that literally spelled out 'DEATH'. 

"You what?!" Your boss exclaimed in anger at your previous request. You gulped, not wanting your neck to be snapped in half.



"I want to quit, sir. I don't want to sign up for a job that has a possible chance of death each night I come to work." In all honesty, you actually wanted to stay. Springtrap reeled in your curiosity and you really want to know more about him and this place. What interested you were the supernatural ways that he can turn into a human. You would ask Springtrap about it tonight, but after the warning about there being more serious threats and dangers, you knew better than to stay. You valued your life, thank you very much. The aggressive tapping sound of Yariel's fingers against his own desk hurried each second. His face scrunched up in deep consideration of your request to quit after one day at work. Finally, after all the pondering set aside -- his response was a simple:



"You can't,"



"What?! But sir, that isn't fair-" You started your rant but he interjected.



"You can't quit. If you quit or slip out any detail of what happened to you to anybody else, then I can just reveal to the world about your address, age, even photos from your own phone. I can easily reveal it all to social media, you aren't safe, (Y/N) -- day and night." Terror filled your (e/c) orbs at his threatening. Was he blackmailing you? Before you could respond, however, he added, "Make sure you come to work, tonight. You know what happens when you don't. Go back home, (Y/N), you need to rest." Yariel heaved himself off of his chair and pointed to the exit with a fierce look plastered on his tan face. "Leave."



You yelped in surprise and obeyed his command, not wanted to be scolded at anymore. To you, it was the worst day of your life. You could have died last night and now your very own boss threatens you to go back each night, risking death for the sake of not wanting your private information be leaked onto social media. 'Asshole, I should have never taken this job in the first place just because of some stupid rumors.' You had eventually reached back home, away from the horror attraction that brought horror to your life.



The familiar (f/c) walls of your own home soothed you. At least now you know that you're safe in a place that you're familiar with. 'Home is where the heart is,' you reminded yourself before flopping yourself onto your own bed. 'Why did I just use a dumb quote from the Internet, ugh.' You lazily rolled your eyes and acquired your cell phone and started scrolling through social media. Your heart raced at the memory of Yariel's chance of leaking the personal information. You should have read the papers you were signing first, it just made you a complete idiot. You groaned from your soreness, deciding to take a shower now.


'Wait, I wonder if Springtrap has been discovered yet. Didn't they say something about peeking in the boarded room?' You typed in 'Springtrap Fazbear's Fright: Horror Attraction' but in the image results -- it exposed pictures of actual spring traps. 'His final form,' you joked before laying your phone aside. You couldn't stop thinking about Springtrap--maybe because he was a completely new and foreign thing/person that came upon your life? You shook your head. 'I shouldn't worry, I have to rest.' You gazed aimlessly as the clocked ticked on.


_______________________________________________________


You didn't like to process the gloomy atmosphere that the horror attraction released at night. Shakily, you opened the doors to the attraction to commence at your shift. The moment you stepped foot inside on the checkered-tile floors, your (s/c) skin went pale at the thought of dying. In the 2020's, you were so used to being safe and protected in your own home and town that it was impossible to encounter death in any situation. This risk was more than just a silly car accident or even jumping off a high-story building. No, it was the risk of dying in a haunted pizzeria with tales and rumors of possessed animatronics and children being killed and having their frontal lobe bit off. Nobody wanted to be stuck in a horror movie filled with cheesy props and animatronics, but you took the role; you are the main star of this movie.



You were so focused that you stood there paralyzed at the flickering of lights and the dreaded hallways that shrouded in darkness ahead--as if the corridors never had an end. Warm breaths escaped your mouth as you embarked down the same hallways that Springtrap wandered about. You remembered the Chica head, the Foxy lamp, the Bonnie prop and finally--the Freddy decoration. You nimbly passed by it, pressing your body against the walls, afraid that even the lifeless of props would jump out at you. You never even realized that this job made you so paranoid. The next thing you know, you could be on the brink of insanity. 'Watch me, I can just burn this place to the ground if I could.' You recalled to the previous phone call before getting comfortable with your office chair -- not too comfortable. You were literally shaking to the point where you had to place your maintenance panel on your desk and hug yourself in fear. If Springtrap was here, he would be laughing at how terrified you were. Maybe Springtrap is stalking you after all, he's good at hide-n-seek and he could be laughing in the shadows, maybe in the vents.



"Let this be an easy night, please." You muttered yet the knot in your stomach only tightened further. After all, you were only back because you were being blackmailed. Before you could pick up the phone, laughter echoed through the vents. 'Springtrap's coming and I don't think he'll go easy on me,' The laughter died down to an insane giggle, followed by a series of creaks and bumps. Your grip held tightly on the phone, awaiting to hear this guy's voice before your upcoming death. 'At least not this time.'